


The Last Piece

by SuburbanSun



Series: puzzle pieces [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dawning Attraction, F/M, Skye Ships Fitzsimmons, Slow Build, Talk of Sex Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Feel free to tell me to butt out if you want to, but… why didn't you and Fitz ever… like, hook up? At the Academy, or afterwards? I mean, you’re both attractive people. And alcohol exists. And it still never happened?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Look... a LOT happened in the midseason finale. A lot. And I don't really know how to write something that takes place shortly after that, focused on Fitzsimmons, that doesn't deal with all the rest of the mess left by 'What They Become.' 
> 
> So can we just say this takes place a few weeks after that episode, and that Mack, Trip and Skye are all alive and well and not dealing with any powers or possessions?

Jemma knows that she should be working. Coulson’s had her evaluating a mysterious substance they’d collected on a recent mission, and she’s got miles to go before she can deliver him a full report on its chemical makeup.

She should be working, and she would be. If only she weren’t so _distracted_.

Chin in hand, she leans her elbows on the lab table that has the best line of sight into the garage. It’s a coincidence that she’s chosen to work at this particular lab table, really. Utterly random chance has led her to this moment, in which she leans on the table and watches Fitz work, lost in thought.

“Enjoying the view?”

Jemma jumps in surprise, straightening up and looking away from where Fitz is leaning over to peer under Lola’s hood in a simple gray t-shirt and jeans. “I was just thinking, Skye.”

“Thinking about what?” Skye leans her elbows back on the table, head cocked to the side.

“These samples aren’t going to analyze themselves.” Jemma squints into her microscope, adjusting its knob with a blush when she realizes that it wasn’t even properly focused. 

“Can I ask you a question you may not like?”

Jemma looks up from her samples. Skye sounds quite hesitant. “Of course.”

“Feel free to tell me to butt out if you want to, but… why _didn't_ you and Fitz ever… like, hook up? At the Academy, or afterwards?” Jemma looks down, busying herself by arranging the pages of data beside her lab station into a neat stack. “I mean, you’re both attractive people. And alcohol exists. And it still never happened?”

Jemma lifts the stack of pages to tap its bottom edge against the table, then sets them back down. They look just as neat as they did to begin with, and she’s still got a question to answer. With a sigh, she meets Skye’s questioning gaze.

“I don’t know… I guess he was never really my type…”

Skye scoffs. “I don’t think types matter when we’re talking about _soulmates_.”

Jemma’s eyes widen, and she looks away. “Soulmates? Us? No… no, I don’t think-- no.” She clears her throat unnecessarily.

Skye rolls her eyes, but relents. “So you’re not attracted to him, then? I mean, that’s pretty important, so I get it.” Her expression is soft, like she really does understand what Jemma is feeling. But Jemma knows that she doesn’t, not yet. How could she when Jemma doesn't fully understand it herself?

She picks up a pen from the table. Uncaps it, begins to doodle small spirals on the top page of her neatened stack. “Well...”

“Out with it.” Skye crosses her arms, eyebrows raised, expectant. Jemma continues to doodle, eyes on the page where she’s now mapping out a few of her favorite chemical equations, something that used to settle her nerves before exams in school.

“There have been a few… minor… dreams, recently.”

“Sex dreams? About _Fitz_?”

Jemma's eyes widen. Skye never fully understood when to keep her voice down, did she? “Shush, shush!” She sighs, and sets her pen down. “Look, I had never really thought about him… sexually… and then everything happened, and all I could think about was him staying alive. And then all I could think about was him getting better. There was never any time to think about things like… his hands… and his--”

Skye’s hands shoot up, palms out as if in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need for specifics.”

“Sorry,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “The point is… things have been incredibly crazy lately, but… there’s a little time now. I guess at some point recently, my brain just decided… ‘Well, Jemma, time to start thinking about sleeping with your partner of nearly 11 years!’” She giggles nervously, loudly. It’s the first time she’s said that out loud.

“So you’ve been thinking about it. While you're awake, too.”

Jemma bites her lip, then offers Skye a small, bashful smile. “I… can’t help myself.”

Skye makes a high-pitched, excited noise, and claps her hands together. “This is so exciting!”

“Is it, though? I mean, there’s nothing to be done about it. We’ve just barely reached a tentative equilibrium in our friendship. There’s no way I’m going to complicate that by… jumping his bones, to use your terminology.”

Skye turns to lean forward against the lab table, elbows down in the same position she’d found Jemma in earlier. Jemma follows her gaze to Fitz, who’s now pointing out something about Lola’s inner workings to Mack with a hand on one hip. “But Simmons, what if this is the last piece of the puzzle? I mean, putting aside the fact that it’s bullshit to say you two aren’t soulmates… you love him, right? Like, as a person?”

Jemma looks down at the table, scratching absently at a scuff mark with her thumbnail. “You know that I do.”

“And you never want to be without him. And you love spending time with him. Right?”

Lips pursed, Jemma meets Skye’s eyes. “But Skye, it’s complicated, now.”

“But in general, I mean. Even now, I see you when you two are having tea together. You finally look… maybe not happy, yet, but peaceful.”

Something about that, and about the fact that Skye was looking for it, makes Jemma feel warm all over. A smile creeps onto her face, and she looks back down at the papers on the table. “So you’re saying… every other piece of the puzzle is in place…”

“...and now that you might want to bone him, too, that’s it. That’s the whole puzzle.”

Jemma pauses. She reaches down to fiddle with the hem of her shirt, brow furrowed. “But what if he’s not… I mean, I know how he feels about me. At least, I think I still do. But what if he doesn’t want to… to…” She looks back up at Skye, looking torn.

“You mean what if he isn’t attracted to you?”

Jemma nods.

“He’d be crazy not to be! Come on, what happened to confident, ‘all the guys at the Academy were hot for my nubile body’ Simmons?”

Jemma looks down again. “It’s just… that wasn’t important, then. This, now… might be.”

Skye’s expression says either “you’re adorable and it’s going to be okay,” or “wow, you’re totally screwed,” and Jemma’s not sure which. But when the other girl reaches out and pulls her into a warm hug, she feels hopeful that it was the former.

“Just think about it, okay?” Skye says, pulling back from the embrace. “Really think about-- you know.  _It_. Rarely is fantasizing about banging somebody the best advice… but in this situation, I think it might be.”

Jemma nods. “Yes. A thought experiment, if you will.”

“However you want to science it up, you’ll still just be thinking about Fitz naked.” Jemma shoots her a look-- there’s no need to be so _obvious_ about it. Skye reaches out and rests a hand on Jemma’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’ll figure it out. You two always do.” Jemma nods, crossing her arms as Skye leaves the lab with a reassuring wave.

She’s right, Jemma thinks. All she has to do is approach this like an experiment. Following the scientific method has never failed her before. She can figure this out with focus and poise. She just has to--

Her eyes light on Fitz standing in the garage, wiping oil from his hands onto his t-shirt, oblivious to her gaze. He moves over to a chair, where he’s draped a clean button-down, and pulls the oil-stained shirt over his head. Absently, Jemma’s hand moves to her neck, and her mind flashes through a few choice images from a recent dream.

“Oh dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want to chat on Tumblr? I'm unbreakablejemmasimmons over there!


End file.
